It Doesn't Matter It's the Boy's Birthday

March 5, 2010.  Friday.

Situation:  Work tonight.  Sent the Boy a birthday greeting by email.  (He’s been living half the time with us, half the time with his girlfriend, Jennifer.)  Take Mway out about 2.  All day long I trip over sticks that Moi has allowed Mway to bring into the kitchen.

State of the Path:  As soon as I step outside I hear a loud “chak” and then spot in the big spruce tree behind our house what I’m pretty sure is a mourning dove.  Soon a second dove flies over and perches in a nearby tree.  I wait for the birds to sing their sad coo, but when after a minute nothing happens, I start to walk over, startling the two birds and a number of others that I hadn’t seen.  Only when I’m by the outbuilding and a briar has caught in my orange wool cap do I hear the familiar coo.  There is still snow on the ground in the old orchard, but between the sumacs and the ridge around bug land much of the snow is gone.  The path is mostly muddy, forcing me to walk again in the weeds or on what little snow is left.  The sumac berries that I used to see in the snow I now see squashed in dirt, mud, and grass.  It looks rather Christmasy.

State of the Creek:  There are now only patches of snow along the creek, which is running pretty much the same as it has the last couple days.  Except for around the ridge that surrounds it, most of the snow is gone from bug land.

The Fetch:  Again stand at one end of the clearing, toss the stick the whole length.  Three fetches, which seems now to have become the standard.